


Finding Light

by DameRuth



Series: Flowers [25]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Biology, Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24791092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameRuth/pseuds/DameRuth
Summary: Ten and Jack are trapped in darkness, but Jack trusts the Doctor to find a way out.[Continuing the Teaspoon imports, originally posted 2009.01.02.]
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Series: Flowers [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/14017
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Finding Light

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Ten/Jack "Flowers" snippet that started as a response to a [Winter Companions](http://community.livejournal.com/wintercompanion) challenge over on LJ. I orginally wrote about half of it for the ["Darkness"](http://community.livejournal.com/wintercompanion/tag/challenge:+darkness) challenge, but missed the deadline; it languished on my hard drive for nearly a year, but when the ["Amnesty"](http://community.livejournal.com/wintercompanion/tag/challenge:+amnesty) challenge came around, I decided to dust it off and finish it up.
> 
> * * *

Jack lurched away from the caved-in portion of the tunnel, coughing from the rock dust thrown in the air. He was completely and utterly blind in the profound darkness, and he stumbled more than once, but it was more important to get away from the unstable area than it was to worry about a fall.  
  
A last spatter of noise from falling rocks and sliding gravel, and then silence -- except for someone else coughing nearby.  
  
"Doctor!" Jack called, beginning to pick his way towards the sound. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, fine! Are you . . .?" the Doctor began, before breaking off into another coughing fit.  
  
"Not a scratch." Jack could tell he was close, and reached out. His fingers brushed the roughness of the Doctor's wool-clad arm. The Doctor's hand came up and clasped Jack's, then drew him into a relieved hug.  
  
That started Jack coughing again, from the dust in the Doctor's hair and clothing, but he didn't mind. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I think they’ve stopped chasing us.”  
  
The Doctor chuckled in his ear. “I’d imagine so. I didn’t expect such . . . spectacular results.”  
  
Jack pulled away from him, but kept his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders — partly because he could, but partly because the pervasive darkness was becoming disorienting, and the contact steadied him. “What, you use the sonic screwdriver to drop an unstable section of the tunnel and you’re surprised when it _works_?”  
  
“Weeeell,” from his tone of voice and the shifting under his hands, Jack could tell the Doctor was tugging his earlobe. “I didn’t think it was _that_ unstable. Still! Here we are, safe and sound.” A pause, and then, more thoughtfully, “Ah.”  
  
Jack made himself drop his hands to his sides. “Yeah. Here we are — but now what? I’m guessing you don’t still have the screwdriver?” If so, the Doctor would no doubt be using its faint light to check their surroundings.  
  
“Hrm. No. I lost it back there.” Another pause. “There’s air movement — that’s a good sign, anyway. This tunnel opens to the outside, somewhere.”  
  
Jack inhaled, and could taste the hint of freshness in the air, now the rock dust was settling. “The trick is, how do we find out way to it?” he finished.  
  
Still not the faintest gleam of light, and by now Jack’s eyes would be dark-adapted enough to sense even a few photons’ worth of difference in their surroundings. He was getting nothing but the washes of color generated as sensory “noise” in the absence of any stimulus.  
  
Jack let his eyes go unfocused, to better utilize his more light-sensitive peripheral vision, in the vain hope he was missing something, when an unexpected sound made him jump. It was a chirp, but a big one. It sounded like it could come from the proverbial 500-pound canary . . . or a cricket the size of an SUV. Neither image was very comforting. And the noise had come from very close by.  
  
Shoving away images of gigantic, hungry, blind cave life, Jack relied on Occam’s Razor, and asked the Doctor, “Was that you?”  
  
“Of course,” the Time Lord replied, and followed up with another massive chirp.  
  
Jack knew the Doctor was an astonishing vocal mimic — to the point of being able to sound completely human, among other things — but he’d rarely been treated to such a direct demonstration. “Can I ask why?”  
  
“Sh! You’re interfering with the echoes.” Another chirp.  
  
“You’re _echolocating_? Since when can you do that?”  
  
“Since I learned how,” the Doctor replied in a breezy voice. “About, oh, six hundred years ago. Glad I haven’t lost the knack.”  
  
“All this time you’ve been giving me grief for being an ape, and you’re part bat?”  
  
“Nope,” the Doctor responded, popping the “p.” “Learned from a bat, though. Well, a Thel'ec. Same thing, more or less. Anyway, I think I can get us out of here . . .”  
  
That wasn’t the most resoundingly confident statement Jack had ever heard, but still, it was far better than nothing. Two more chirps and the Doctor slipped his hand into Jack's and began leading the way.  
  
Jack quickly found that moving through complete darkness with his eyes open was disorienting; closing his eyes seemed to help, apparently by fooling his body into thinking the darkness was voluntary. He had to place his feet carefully, though the Doctor did his best to warn of any major surface irregularities before Jack stumbled. As much as he hated the feeling of being a dead weight, there was little for Jack to do but follow the directional pull of the Doctor's hand, and the occasional low, murmured verbal directions.  
  
The mental map he attempted to keep fell apart relatively quickly, as the Doctor's path twisted, turned, and doubled back on itself multiple times. They waded through water twice, once crawling through the chill, limestone-scented water when the ceiling of the passage dropped down to waist-height. Jack forced himself to ignore the discomfort of being wet and cold, his damp boots chafing unpleasantly. When they had to climb up a nearly vertical surface, the Doctor leading the way, had to let go of Jack's hand, but provided a constant series of verbal directions to each new handhold. At the top, the Doctor reached back down to catch his hand and all but hauled Jack bodily up the last five feet.  
  
Eventually, the constant lack of vision and the complete surrender to the Doctor's immediate direction led Jack into something approaching a waking dream state; he was aware that the Doctor's frequent chirps weren't as loud or clear as they'd once been, but he didn't let that bother him. Getting out of the cave was no longer as important as taking the next step, and the next after that . . .  
  
When the Doctor abruptly stopped in place, Jack almost bumped into him; the sudden cessation of movement was disconcerting, but Jack kept his eyes closed from sheer habit.  
  
A moment's silence, then the Doctor dropped his hand, saying, "You can open your eyes now." His voice was rough and scratchy, with ragged hints of split-tones breaking through here and there. He sounded amused, though.  
  
Jack complied, blinking, his eyelids feeling gritty, and was rewarded with a dim, grey view of the passage in front of them. It wasn't much light, but it seemed dazzling after the darkness.  
  
"We should be able to get out just around that bend; maybe a little more climbing, but probably not much," the Doctor added, and coughed. "Blimey, I'd forgotten how much that takes out of the old vocal cords. Jack . . ."  
  
Jack looked at the Doctor, seeing him for the first time since the cave-in. The Time Lord was a mess, looking exactly like someone who had just spent hours crawling through a cave, but Jack was willing to bet he didn't look any better. What caught his attention more was the Doctor's expression. He was smiling, but it wasn't his usual manic grin. It was a small, soft expression that made him look disconcertingly vulnerable.  
  
"Did you have your eyes closed that whole way?" he asked, cracked, strained voice warming.  
  
Jack blinked. "Yeah -- it was too disorienting, otherwise." He wasn't sure what the Doctor was getting at.  
  
"You trusted me that much?" the Doctor asked, and Jack understood.  
  
"Of course. Always," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
The look on the Doctor's face was reply enough.  
  
"C'mon," Jack said, nodding in the direction of the light. "I owe you a cup of tea with some honey in it when we get back to the TARDIS."  
  
The Doctor nodded, still smiling, and let Jack take the lead.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=28177>


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